Don't Blow A Fuse
by Love the Omni
Summary: The electricity in Ian and Mickey's living room shut off one day, and they both had to figure out how to fix it. However, as always, they bickered the whole time. Written for listen-chuckles in response to her two prompts for the Gallavich Gift Exchange: "opposite personalities" and "lunatic"


**Don't Blow a Fuse**

Summary: The electricity in Ian and Mickey's living room shut off one day, and they both had to figure out how to fix it. However, as always, they bickered the whole time. Written for listen-chuckles in response to two prompts for the Gallavich Gift Exchange: "opposite personalities" and "lunatic"

Disclaimer: I don't own Shameless.

The person who requested this fic gave me the choice of two prompts: "opposite personalities" or "lunatic." I decided to include a little bit of both. To me, for some reason, "opposite personalities" meant that they argue a lot and "lunatic" meant that Mickey did something crazy or foolish. They also said that they would like me to include "AUs of any kind, smut, fluff, future, and/or domestic." I included everything except for AU.

Anonymously written for Chloe (a.k.a. listen-chuckles). I hope you enjoy the gift! The prompt said to "be different." Oh dear. I hope this was "different" enough…

I based Mickey's "naivety" after myself. I know absolutely nothing about fixing electricity. I did research to write this, so I hope it worked out alright and that it's believable.

* * *

It had been three months since Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich moved in together, and they had been arguing with each other constantly ever since.

Ian and Mickey were complete opposites. They had both been raised by a big family on the South Side of Chicago, but it became clear that the Gallagher and the Milkovich families handled their households very differently.

Ian was used to all of the kids in the Gallagher house dividing up the chores. Everyone knew exactly how much money they needed to contribute each week, and they all did their best to keep the house somewhat decently clean, at least until Frank came around and messed it up again. The Gallaghers talked to each other. They loved each other. They all pitched in together and coordinated to make ends meet.

The Milkoviches, on the other hand, only worked together to sell drugs or beat the shit out of people. When it came to the important things in life, they were all on their own. No one ever taught Mickey how to clean or take care of himself. He was weirdly naïve about a lot of things that Ian thought was common sense. No one ever made Mickey do things around the house, so he never did. Terry Milkovich didn't give a shit about how dirty their house was. The only time that Mickey's father ever talked to him was to yell abuse at him anyway.

Adjusting to domestic life together was proving to be hard for Ian and Mickey. The house that they moved into needed a lot of work. It was very small and old, so there was always something wrong happening that they needed to fix.

The house was filthy when they got it. Dust, dirt, and dead bugs were littered all over the house. There was even some weird gunk in the living room carpet that neither of them could identify. Scorch marks were still visible on the walls and floor of their bedroom from a minor fire that happened a long time ago. The floorboards all creaked with the slightest bit of movement. Mickey even suspected that they had rats in the house.

Honestly, the place was barely livable, but it was all that they could afford. They were so happy and in love that it didn't matter anyway. Finally being able to be with each other was worth living in a shithole. They finally had a place of their own where they didn't have to worry about anyone else judging them.

But even though they loved each other, they were such completely different people that their personalities were bound to clash. Both of them had habits that drove each other crazy. They bickered over the smallest things.

"God_damn_ it, Mickey!"

Mickey glanced up from the television when he heard Ian's annoyed yell from the other room.

"The fuck did I do this time?" he sighed.

Ian stomped over to where Mickey was lazily sprawled out on the couch. "How many times do I have to tell you to shut off the goddamn lights when you leave a room?" the redhead growled.

Mickey looked back at the television. "I left it on 'cause I'm gonna go back to that room later," he said dismissively.

"_Really_?" Ian shot Mickey a sassy, disbelieving glare. "_Which_ room, Mick? Every fucking light in this house has been left on. You're gonna blow a fucking fuse one of these days."

"Calm down," Mickey said. He belched loudly. "I'll get to it later."

Ian scoffed. "What? Like you got to the _laundry_?"

"Well maybe if you fucking bought laundry soap like I asked you to," Mickey mumbled. His eyes never left the TV.

Ian's nostrils flared and he marched over to turn the television off.

"Hey, I was watching that!" Mickey yelled.

"Yeah? Well, _I_ was talking!" Ian shouted back.

"You're _such_ an asshole," Mickey retorted.

He stood up and glared at Ian challengingly. Even though Mickey was short, he still managed to look intimidating. He shoved Ian lightly. Ian smirked and shoved him right back.

Somehow, Ian was the only one who has able to see right through Mickey's empty threats. Everyone in the neighborhood was either scared of Mickey or they hated him. Ian was different. He didn't put up with Mickey's shit.

Despite being opposites, somehow they were perfect for each other. Mickey didn't trust others very easily, but Ian was the one person able to lower his guard. Ian was usually a calm person, but Mickey brought out the passion in him. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

It wasn't always easy, but living together was the most fun the both of them ever had.

As soon as Mickey saw Ian's smirk, and Ian saw the boner in Mickey's pants, the atmosphere of the room changed. Just like the first time that they ever had sex, the adrenaline of their fight fueled their lust. One minute they were yelling at each other, and the next they weren't.

Mickey desperately pressed his lips against Ian's. Ian responded by wrapping his hand around the brunette's neck and pulling him closer. Mickey was focused on trying to lift Ian's shirt over his head, but Ian refused to tear their lips apart.

Ian led Mickey backwards toward the couch. When Mickey finally realized what the younger man was doing, he let out a grunt of protest and tried to push him away. He didn't want Ian to get on top of him. Not while they were still clothed.

Ian managed to overpower Mickey anyway, and they tumbled down onto the couch. He climbed over Mickey and straddled him, pinning him down as he sucked and raked his teeth over the other man's pale skin.

Mickey held back a low moan. It felt good, but he wanted _more_.

"Come on! Get yer fuckin' clothes off and get in me," Mickey grunted impatiently.

Ian laughed. "Wow, you're such a romantic," he whispered into the corner Mickey's mouth sarcastically.

"Fuck you," Mickey snorted in response. Despite how far they'd gotten in their relationship, he still shied away from the word 'romance.'

Ian grinned and grinded his crotch onto Mickey's hard on. Their breathing grew ragged as they sucked in each other's air. Their warm dicks rubbed against each other through layers of fabric. The barrier was enough to drive Mickey crazy. He couldn't stand it anymore.

Mickey eagerly unbuttoned the firecrotch's pants. He slid his hands down under Ian's waistband, attempting to shove the offending article of clothing as far off as possible. He was aching for the feeling of Ian's bare flesh against him.

Ian chuckled into Mickey's mouth. He grabbed Mickey's hands and pinned them above his head. "No," he murmured. "Not yet."

Mickey whined in impatience. He hated when Ian took his time with the foreplay.

Ian ignored him and used his other hand to unbutton Mickey's pants, teasingly slipping his hand inside over the fabric of his boxers. Mickey's eyes squeezed shut and he arched his back into the touch.

Ian palmed Mickey gently before finally giving him what he wanted. He slithered his hand into Mickey's boxers and wrapped it around his aching cock.

Mickey's mouth hung open in ecstasy. His toes curled and he bucked his hips upwards. He sighed in relief.

Until Ian stopped.

Ian pulled his lips away from Mickey's with a smack. "What was that?" he asked.

"The fuck was _what_, Gallagher?" Mickey groaned, opening his eyes. His eyebrows furrowed together when he saw the distracted look on Ian's face. "Don't you _dare_ stop," he said warningly.

But it was too late. Ian wasn't paying attention anymore. The redhead scanned the room with a look of concern until the lights above them flickered suddenly.

"There! It happened again!" Ian exclaimed. He pushed himself off of the couch and stared at the lights on the ceiling.

Mickey didn't get a chance to protest before _all_ of the lights in the room shut off completely.

"I _knew_ you'd blow a fuse or something, you fucking asshole!" Ian shouted in the darkness.

"It ain't _my_ fault this house is a piece of shit," Mickey snapped. He had no idea how they'd ended up fighting again, but he was _not_ in the mood.

Then they heard it: there was a faint sound of squeaking and scratching coming from the kitchen. They were both from the South Side, so they knew the noise all too well.

"Told you we had rats," Mickey grumbled.

Ian was suddenly alert. "Fuck," he whispered. "I'll get a flashlight!" He hurried out of the room before Mickey could utter another word.

Mickey exhaled deeply and tried not to read too much into the fact that Ian just walked out on what could have been a really good fuck. Their sex life had changed a lot since they'd moved in together. It wasn't just quickies in the back of the Kash and Grab anymore. They still had sex all the time, but just like any other couple living together, sometimes they had other priorities.

Mickey didn't like to think about it. It was all too… "domestic."

He reluctantly peeled himself off of the couch and shuffled into the kitchen. If there was ever a problem with the electricity, that was the best place to check.

There was a big square cut out of the drywall near the kitchen counter. A bunch of dirty, tangled wires ran through the hole and up to the fuse box above. Mickey crouched down to examine it.

Sure enough, upon closer inspection, he noticed that the opening in the wall had been chewed wider than usual. Mickey peered past the wires, into the hole.

He was greeted by the sight of a dead rat.

"Fuck!" Mickey swore. He grimaced in disgust. Wrinkling his nose, he leaned in closer. Some of the wires next to the rat were frayed. The rubber coatings had been bitten off.

"Yo, Gallagher!" he shouted. "Think I found the problem."

"Alright, be right there!" Ian replied from the other room.

While he waited, Mickey inspected the scene before him carefully. He poked the rat to see if it was really dead, and he squinted to see if there were any more in the dark recesses of the wall.

But then Mickey made a stupid move: he grabbed the exposed wires.

All of a sudden, electricity surged through him. His whole body shook. He couldn't let go. He couldn't even call for help.

He was lucky that Ian walked in when he did.

"_Shit_!" Ian exclaimed. He hastily dropped the flashlight on the ground and ran over to the fuse box to shut off the electric current.

Once the electricity was off, Mickey's muscles unclenched and he was finally able to let go. He collapsed into a twitching heap on the floor.

Ian ran over to him and clutched him tightly. "Are you okay?" he asked frantically, his eyes wide with terror.

Mickey coughed and struggled to catch his breath.

"Fuck you," he croaked. "That was nothing."

Ian let out a long exhale of relief. For a brief moment, he thought that Mickey was going to die. He wanted to kiss Mickey, pull him close, and never let him go.

But now that he knew for sure that Mickey was alright, he was also pissed.

"You lunatic!" he cried. "You could've been killed!"

"Well, how was _I_ supposed to know that the fuckin' thing was gonna zap me?" Mickey grumbled.

"Common sense!" Ian yelled. "If you're gonna fuck around with live wires, you should at least turn off the electricity first!"

"How the fuck was I supposed to know that?" Mickey muttered defensively.

"I'm being serious here!" Ian roared. "You could have died!"

"Geez. Don't blow a fuse there, firecrotch. I heard you the first time." Mickey grinned at his own pun.

Ian didn't look the slightest bit amused.

Mickey sighed and finally took the situation seriously. "I'm alright, okay?" he added in a softer voice.

Ian nodded halfheartedly. He leaned down to kiss Mickey on the lips. Mickey wrapped his hand around Ian's neck to hold him in place.

"Don't get yourself killed _ever_, asshole," Ian murmured.

Mickey chuckled. "Alright, but only 'cause you still owe me a hand job."

Ian smacked his shoulder jokingly. "I'll give you more than _that_," he said. The redhead pounced back on top of Mickey and laughed, sealing their mouths together once again.

This time he didn't waste his time teasing Mickey. They both grasped at each other's clothing and quickly ripped it all off piece by piece. Within minutes, Ian had prepared Mickey enough and brusquely slid inside of him.

Mickey moaned loudly as Ian pounded his smaller body into the kitchen floor over and over.

It was almost as if their argument had never even happened. They completely forgot what they had been fighting about. Even the fact that they had rats in the walls and no electricity in the living room went unnoticed.

In that moment, all that mattered was each other.

Living together may have changed their relationship, but they never lost their spark. No matter how much they argued, it always came right back to this.


End file.
